Masked Angel
by Sky the white dragon
Summary: Akira died when he met Shido that night; he died and received no justice. Now, Arsène is trapped in our world and he is determined to make sure Shido is exposed. With the help of The Phantoms ( or thieves-in-training) Arsène will expose the injustice in this world and maybe even find his own place within it while he's at it. *A Persona-centered story with Arsene as the protagonist*
1. Chapter 1

Blinking lights and flashing signs lured in the weak willed and distracted them from the ever climbing numbers and the increasing futility of dreams of fortune. Dice that clattered and jumped across blackjack tables in rhythm to the rings and dings of slot machines that struck cherry, lemon or ace to seduce the mass' temptation. A place of spicy urges and bankrupt expressions, set in it's routine of trick, soothe, cheat and repeat. All seemed right on the floor as chips were traded between dealers and suckers, but overhead, a shadow swam between flashy lights and signs with style and grace.

"Move!", "Clear the way"; men in suits with dark glasses and ear buds shifted through the crowds. Disrupting those who strained to count the cards and watch the dice, they looked and searched the ceiling, trying to locate the suspect. As they searched the shadows above, a lone shape seemed to hover in the very center of the room on a light that didn't even sway at the sudden weight.

A tall top hat and narrow shoulders outlined against the bluish moon, a rangy body glowing in a brilliant scarlet shoulder jacket with a black waistcoat and ivory cravat, was further illuminated by the garish machines below. His face, smooth and hard as glass, with nothing more than brilliant orange flames outlining his cocky grin; in his long fingers, a silver case was held securely under arm. He watched the men below him as slender flame spread across the lower section of his face in a grin. He turned and leapt.

" _Good, now get running!_ " A boyish voice advised in his head.

" _This is our only chance!_ " A voice with a more believable masculinity also told him from an unknown location.

" _Stay calm! You can get away now!_ " A girl's voice echoed with a small touch of panic.

" _We'll retrieve the briefcase on our end._ " Another female voice, calmer and commanding verified.

The thief could hear static far away, and he briefly felt a sensation that could be compared to a scratchy buzz behind his face. He heard far away voices that he didn't recognize.

" _Hm_?" The once anxious voice from before noticed. " _What was that?_ "

" _Don't worry about us! Just concentrate on getting away_." The boyish voice encouraged him.

The thief hurried across the stands and the fixtures of the lamps nimbly, his heels leaping from perch to perch with little more than small clicks against the surfaces.

As he ran across the room from above, the conversations continued in his head. " _But I have to say, showing yourself above that crowd earlier was an excellent move._ " The voice bragged about the thief's finesse. " _Nice work as always, noble leader!"_ **(A/N below** _)_

A small giggle was heard. " _I bet Skull wouldn't pull it off that smoothly._ "

The thief cleared obstacle after obstacle, until he saw a dark figure in a suit on the balcony ahead.

"There he is!" The agent pointed in his direction.

" _Just run! Get out of there!_ " One of the girls voices shouted.

" _Ok_ , _the enemies focus is on him. Looks like the rest of us can slip away._ "

He leaped from row to fluorescent row on his new path.

" _Everyone remember where we're meeting up?_ " He listened to the words in his head as he jumped onto the platform above.

He ran to the stairs ahead of him, keeping his eyes on the doors at their top, only for two guards to cut him off. They shouted at him to stop and began to shift, their faces turning into strange, shovelhead shaped masks. Intimidating, but crude looking in comparison to his own.

He turned and saw another guard, just as distorted behind him.

One of the voices sounded in his head again. " _Take 'em down, Big Guy!_ " The flames on one corner of his face flicked into an elegant, yet undignified smirk; his agility placed him in a guard's back and with pull of his long fingers, the mask came flying off and the guard stumbled as the thief left his proximity.

It groaned from deep in its throat and exploded into burgundy goop and in it's place, a massive bull-headed creature snarled at him.

His own body changed, his fingertips lengthened into metal claws, his face burned warmer and hotter and beautifully carved knives sprung from his heels.

He held his claws at the ready. " _Examining power levels… No threat. Get 'em!_ "

He rose his hand and felt a strong, malicious power building, he pounded the ground and red ribbons congregated around the bovid monster, making way for a ghoulish black face made of smoke to erupt from the ground. The beast recoiled from the effective attack. It snorted and threw its head with a bellow. His feet suddenly began to burn and a column of fire erupted from underneath him. He grunted in surprise, but this cow would need to do better than that! He twirled on one foot and swung his heel, slicing with the blade there. The beast lowered its head with exhaustion, but it wasn't done.

" _Everyone else, head to positions! Use route B!_ "

The beast once again let out a fierce growl, but he was ready this time. Right when his feet got hottest, he stepped to the side, leaving the fire to engulf nothing. Having finally had enough with this distraction, he reaching into his coat pocket and pulled out an ornate semiautomatic handgun and shot a single bullet.

The beast fizzled away with a black splash and shout of pain. " _Good, you defeated them with ease._ " The voices once again praised him.

" _More of them!? Be careful!_ " He wanted to assure her, but more guards suddenly materialized in front of him. He dodged the clumsy lunge from the first one and as it stumbled, he hopped on it's back and with a flourishing backflip, landed on an upper platform.

He leaped backwards again and found himself on a higher balcony.

" _Behind you! Through that door!_ " He turned and sprinted the way she yelled. " _Hurry! You should be able to get out through there!_ " " _Dude, can he even hear us!?_ " A vulgar, rough voice yelled a bit too loudly. " _Don't worry, I'm picking up everyone's voices. Just go!_ " He didn't stop to think about exactly where he was going, he just kept forward; he still heard his assistants shouting out what was happening.

The sound of someone sucking their teeth in frustration was heard. " _Tch! We got away from a bunch of those guys in black, but there're still loads more of 'em…_ " He threw his weight against the double doors in his way and after a quick look to the left to see a locked gate with men on the other side; he quickly turned to the right. He opened the second door and saw a man running through a hallway separated from him by glass.

" _Dammit! Where'd he go!"_ The Agent swore. "I can't confirm the intruder's location." He said into his radio as he ran down the hall. The thief hid behind a corner for a few seconds and continued.

" _Huh?_ " He froze at the exclamation. " _Up ahead! Stop!_ " His expression morphed into one of surprise as he saw a guard straight ahead. He flew to the side, squeezing his limbs into a surprisingly small space behind a crate. " _This is bad! You'll never make it out if you keep fighting!_ " He couldn't help but feel like that was somewhat obvious… " _Hide in the shadows and sneak past when you see an opening!_ "

Moving on instinct alone, he darted from box to box until he was right next to the guard, his body little more than a shadow slinking across the floor. "Hey, are you sure they came this way?" The guard asked his intercom nervously. "Understood, I will continue the search!" He stated firmly and ran off down the path, right past the thief.

" _Now's your chance! Run for the stairs!_ "

He wasted no time! He ran up the stairs and after a quick peek around the corner, ran to the edge of the window looking into the security room. Right before darting by, he heard one of the men giving the command to find and kill him and his companions. He needed to get out and fast! He tried to pace himself up the stairs, fearing a misstep that would allow the men he could hear below him on the lower flights to catch him. He got to the top and turned down the hall. Within seconds he had breached the door and as he leaned over the rails, he saw only wide-open space between him and the window leading outside, wide-open space and a sheer drop into a dining area.

" _Is something wrong?_ " His navigator asked him. " _The exit should be up ahead._ "

" **Through there…** " his smooth and mature voice asked for confirmation. His Navigator explained to him that this was just something he'd have work around. " _After all that commotion, the bottom floor is completely closed off…_ " She sounded a bit regretful. " _Hey, can you make it?_ " He looked to the side of the room and eyed the framework, feeling his grin growing ever wider.

"Over there!" He turned around at the gruff voice down the hall. They held their guns up, point in his direction and in the perfect position to fire. "There's nowhere left to run!"

He tilted his head at them inquisitively. " **Hmm…** " He leapt onto the railing and by the time the guards had exited the hallway and gotten to where he had been standing mere seconds ago, he was halfway across the room, running across the decorative moldings of the ballroom. He jumped across the final corner to the wall nearest to the stained glass window as partygoers below gasped at the scene happening above them. He stood tall and well balanced and bowed with a haughty flourish.

"I bid you, farewell!" He called out and he turned and threw himself through the window. He rolled so his chest faced the ground and black-feathered wings burst from his lower back, carrying him through the diamond shards of broken glass. As he sailed forwards on graceful and powerful wings, he could hear in his head, " _What a showoff. You're so reckless, you know that?_ "

He hovered in midair, the joints of his wings popping with a slight twinge of pain every couple of seconds. But below him, blinding spotlights glared upwards, illuminating his thin frame and dark appearance. He covered his face, the light immediately placing all eyes on him and cutting any hope of escape down by half!

" _Enemies here too!?_ " " _What's happening?!_ " " _These readings, there off the chart!_ " They were all shouting at once, they were starting to panic.

The flames on his face swayed with no special or specific emotion, but he calmly began to block the voices in his head. He stared down at the crowd as they slowly tuned out of his hearing.

"An…-mbush!?" "A-….can you handle this?!" "…An-" "Ars-!"

He did not want them to hear what he knew was about to happen.

"Shoot, dammit! Shoot!"

He flew upwards, rolling back and forth to avoid the bullets whizzing past him. Men, formerly hidden on the neighboring buildings shot gas canisters at him; he dodged them with ease, but he could feel his mind beginning to float away from him! He needed to escape! He could not be captured here!

He flew higher, hoping that if he could escape immediate line of sight, they wouldn't fire at what they could not see. But whirring blades that very nearly sliced his body in half cut him off. Blinded by the mounted light on the helicopters anterior, he was unprepared for the net that wrapped around his body and tangled his wings together. He plummeted towards earth and landed with a heavy, painful impact. They swarmed him within minutes; heavy cables wound around his wings, wrists, ankles and neck and were pulled taunt until he could no longer move and was left to only stare into the faces of the men who bound him. Unable to struggle without tearing his limbs from his body, he became disoriented by the thousands of voices and frantic movement around his head.

"What is it?!" "Doesn't matter! It fits the description we were given. Take it out!"

He looked into the barrel of the gun hovering inches in front of his face. He immediately knew it would not kill him, but he guessed that it would knock him out and be quite painful…

He was right as usual.

* * *

His arms were shackled to the wall above his head, his legs bound to a single metal bar and his wings painfully twisted and chained together behind his back.

His head slumped down towards his cravat, no longer white, but now stained with mud, grime and spit. Prints from the toes of heavy-duty boots dotted his abdomen where they had kicked him over and over again. The floor was dotted with black feathers; either plucked, broken off or shed in the struggle. He was not conscious; he had passed out after the third round with the cattle prod.

"Guess we got a little too eager." One of the men remarked. The other picked up a bucket of cold water and hurled the contents towards the captive's head. His dark face; cracked on one side from the impact of the bullet; began to regain some color. It began to brighten slightly and an orangey outline of eyes and teeth began to glow dimly. He struggled to lift his head, but when he did, he felt the urge to fall asleep again; this time, from disinterest instead of exhaustion. He was already made to be at their mercy, bodily; he had to be there mentally too?

"Hey!" The creature only responded when he heard the prod begin to crackle. "No falling asleep." He looked around as the room became clearer; the flames on his face become more aggressive as he glared at them to leave him alone.

"You just don't get it, do ya?" The man in front said arrogantly as he swaggered forwards. "Just give up!" A metal pipe was swung and it hit his face with a resounding ring. The guard pulled on a chain that had been lying seemingly useless on the floor, but the moment he did, pain exploded in the creatures back as his injured, damaged wings were tugged on roughly. He grunted in pain and very nearly let slip what sounded like the beginnings of a roar. The flames on his face glowed dimly and he reluctantly attempted to focus.

"Come on, cooperate. Or do you want another go with the prod?" One flame on his face shifted towards the ceiling of the room. "Huh, the camera?" The guard looked over without letting go of the chain. He then tugged with particular cruelty as he stood on his tiptoes to look in his prisoners face. "You thinking it can be used as evidence?"

No, it wouldn't and he knew, but he didn't say anything. "Heh, don't you worry. The things were doing to you are _human_ rights violations. And obviously," he tugged playfully on the chain. "you ain't human." He walked towards his partner and took the clipboard. "Obstruction of justice, blackmail, defamation, possession of weapons…manslaughter too?" He pointed towards the helpless creature in mock impression. "To think, all this was being pulled off by a monster like you."

The flames on the black glass began to curve upwards. He wasn't certain what was happening, his head was aching and pain bloomed all over his body. But he felt happy…he felt happy that he had done those things. Not the last one, but the others, for some reason brought him joy and contentment.

"Well, we made the charges for a human to go to jail, but something tells me we're going have a lot more fun with you." He said ominously.

Let them try to break him…he'd been through worse…

A knock on the door interrupted this little test of masculinity. A tall woman, dressed in dark clothes with beautiful silver hair entered the room. She was incredibly attractive, but her face showed no patience for anyone who commented on her looks. The men attempted to strong arm her out, claiming that this was no longer a crime that required an attorney or prosecutor. This was no human, ergo; no trial would held for the monster. It would be going to a lab, were it could be cut up and studied. Then it would be tossed into the trash, once they were done.

"In case you were not made aware, the suspect is capable of several abilities that we are still in the process of figuring out. For all we know, that "thing" as you so insensitively call it, could very well be nothing more than a suit or a mechanical decoy! So I would greatly appreciate it if you would allow me to do the job I was assigned." She left no room for argument, even if what she said was somewhat strange. Any attempt to fight was quickly abolished and as soon as the men reluctantly and fearfully undid the bindings and left, she sat down across from the only other occupant in the room, who looked as if he was quite close to blacking out.

"Can you speak to me?" It took a few seconds, but he nodded his head heavily. She looked down and saw the feathers and after peering around the table, she saw his wings hanging limply with missing primaries.

"Those bastards…" She looked at him with slight regret, "I never thought that…it would be you, or that you'd look like this of all things…" He felt inclined to reassure, but he was so tired… He tapped on the table with his spindly and somehow unbroken fingers.

"Listen," She commanded. "Those men out there are going to haul you away to god knows where, unless you talk to me. If they do that, then it's out of my hands." She looked very frustrated. "What was the point of this? Why did you cause a major incident?" She leaned on the desk, discomfort showing on her face at her next question.

"What does this have to do with the boy from the assault case?"

That question acted as smelling salts for his disorientation. The fire in his mask immediately ceased its needless movement, he looked straight at her and his face showed that he was fully there and ready whatever she said next.

She avoided looking him in the face and saw the clipboard on the floor. She leaned down and picked it up. She skimmed its pages and then furrowed her delicately arched brow. "They didn't have you sign this?"

He shook his head.

She looked contemplative for a moment and placed it on the table in front of him. "Sign your name."

He hesitantly grabbed the pen and thought; did he have a name to put down? "Not the name you gave me before." He looked at her questioningly, the pen very small in his grasp. "Put down your true name, the one she mentioned in her notes…" She said tiredly.

He thought and truly tried to recall…and then he remembered. He signed…

X Arsène X

"Good," She praised gently." Now I need to ask, how is it possible for you to steal someone's heart?"

He held his head in his hands; where was he? What had he been doing? Why had he been doing it? Who was he? What was he? These questions were things he should have known, but he felt like they slipping away… As he tried to think of where to begin and with what, he leaned back in his chair and suddenly felt a strange tickle behind his mask. A glancing sensation, like someone was touching him and retreating back every few seconds. He thought of yellow eyes, of prison cells and a figure that seemed familiar and yet, didn't.

Those thoughts were wrapped in an ethereal blue, in a mist that emanating from the tiniest of sources. He watched as the small fluttering creature floated in front of him, sparkling in a way that he knew was not normal for this world. He listened to the wing beats and he heard her…

"…you are held captive." It floated from his sight. "A prisoner of fate to a future that has been sealed in advance." He wondered… "This is truly an unjust game…your chances of winning are almost none." He felt no anxiety as he lost sight of it. He knew that it was still there. "But if my voice is reaching you, there may yet be a possibility open to you…I beg you. Please overcome this game and save the world. The key to victory lies within your bonds-the truth that you, your friends and your master have grasped." The butterfly landed on his crooked finger softly, it's wings moving as though cradled in the gentlest breeze.

"You have been a player in this game for sometime now, but it did not truly start until half a year ago. For the sake of this world…and your own…please remember…"


	2. Chapter 2

An unutilized mind is a terrifying concept.

He sensed very little in terms of driven or original thought inside the train car; humans mumbling and groaning in their heads about stocks, money and anything else that tickles their fancy for the time. This mundane boredom and lack of enthusiasm made them very easy to deceive he discovered, so much so that he would have been concerned were he not trying his best to keep from wincing with every jolt of the car.

He clutched his arm to his body and kept his leg tight against his seat; it hurt to do so, but he would rather avoid drawing attention to himself. He was thankful that he lacked his horns and top hat, as that would have made his attempts at discreetness all the harder.

"A mental shutdown?"

His gaze slid across his face to two young ladies, dressed in professional looking uniforms. They were smiling, talking back and forth while paying no attention or mind to the people around them.

"To a person though? That's gotta be a joke." The speaker's friends pointed to the screen of her portable phone.

He looked down sadly.

" _Damned brat!_ "

A scream, shattering the sound barrier;

" _What have you done!?_ "

Pain, rippling through him in ways he hadn't thought possible

" _Keep my name out of it._ "

Cold air, a hard ground, a world that he did not belong in and no tether to keep him connected...

He sighed and cradled his face in his claws, settling in his misery until the momentum from the train's slowing lifted his head enough for him to see the doors open.

He heaved himself up and limped out of the car and up the stairs into the bright afternoon sun. People congregated in the streets, either looking to the side chattering nonstop to the person next to them or to their phones, attached to their heads or their hands.

The close quarters and shifting crowds made movement difficult and served only to exacerbate injuries, he hobbled on his one good leg while shielding his face from the harsh sunlight. Peering through his long black fingers at the tall silver skyscrapers, bright sunlight beat down upon him harshly.

Loud honks from cars and senseless chattering and talking and arguing and complaining made his humanoid frame shudder; people pushing in on him and making him tighten his fists until his finger tips threaten to pierce his palms.

Every time someone pushed him, he turned around only to see nobody worth complaining to and just the slightest little brush against his arm made him flinch away, not that anyone would turn to look at him.

He lifted his hand to grip his head as he found himself spinning in circles, trying to stay calm and remember where in this weird, chaotic little world he was trying to go.

Everything was shifting, everything was blinking and everyone was…was slowing?

The once clicking and clacking of shoes become sluggish and decelerated and the noise began to fade into lower and quieter tones until it all just stopped.

Everything was still and quiet, except for…

Crackling…like kindling in a flame

Where is it?He let go of his hand to throw nervous glances over his shoulder, "Where are you?" He whispered.

Over his shoulder, a miniscule blue flame sizzles on the paved ground, fit for a candle and so easy to smother.

He heard whispering, a voice that spoke to the very essence of his existence; the flame stretched and grew upwards, and it began to thin.

" _ **Hn, hn, hn**_ " A chuckle echoed off the buildings, bouncing off mirrors that reflected the greying sky.

The flame billowed like a coat and near it's top, the azure turned to pure white.

Black hair, a smile, a figure shorter than himself; ethereal yellow eyes…

"Watch it buddy!"

Some ill-mannered bystander pushing a young woman shoved him to the side and he recoiled from the sudden influx of chatter and overbearing noise of the city.

He snapped his head from side to side, did nobody else…? He looked over his shoulder, the flame was gone and all that was there now was a wet boot print left behind by some underpaid salary man who happened to step after a walking dog.

The figure was gone.

* * *

Were his leg not throbbing, he would be ashamed of himself. The things he flinched at trying to find a telephone, it was a disgrace!

The underground market was especially congested, shops reeking of flowery fragrances and overflowing with trinkets and gimcrackery made for amusing things to the mind and as such, people flock to them for fancy little knickknacks to tickle their fancy for a while.

After searching for 25 minutes, he had finally been able to find a payphone that thankfully wasn't being used. He clumsily fumbled with the bright green machine as he held the handset in between his coal colored fingers and brought it to the side of his head.

 **"Please deposit 10 yen to complete this call"**

He had never wanted to break something so badly. He tapped his fingertips against the payphone as he tried to think of what to do.

"Babe, I told you; I'm working today."

He turned to the side to see a teenager with slicked back hair, a leather jacket and a cigarette talking on his mobile. There was a girl in a startlingly short skirt standing next to him. "Yeah, I'm walking into work right now. I know. Hey, I'd get away if I could, but you know how it is." The teenager shrugged and looked down at his messy fingernails before throwing the arm over the shoulders of the girl who giggled. "Yeah, yeah, I know it sucks. But I'll see you tonight; uh-huh, I will. You know I love your cooking, have it ready before I get home tonight? Awesome! Yeah, hey, I gotta go. Yeah, love you too. Bye."

The teen pressed a button on the phone. "She is so dumb." He sneered at the phone. "So, now that that's done-" They began to walk past him and then, after taking a deep breath, he roughly shoved the teenagers shoulder with his own.

"Huh?" The punk turned around.

He held his breath.

"What's wrong?" The girl asked. They looked directly at him; he froze in place and clenched his fist tight.

"I…I thought someone pushed me." Taking a few steps while keeping his eyes on him and then scratching the back of his head, he linked arms with the girl and they walked away.

He released his breath and looked down at the 10-yen coin in his palm.

He dropped it into the slot and after listening to the dial tone; he pressed the carefully remembered phone number.

Ring

Ring

Ri-

" _Hello_?"A deep voice answered.

"Hello" He answered raspily.

" _Who is this?_ "

"Monsieur Sakura?"

" _…you?_ "

"Monsieur Sakura, I…"

" _Hang on_ ," there was rustling over the phone and then he could here other voices and a loud slam like a door. " _…okay, what do you want?_ "

"Monsieur…"

" _Don't, just tell me what you want._ " The voice with woven with caution, and he didn't like that. If the origin of the voice felt unsafe speaking with him, they might not help him and that would put him in a very poor position.

"Monsieur, I don't mean you any harm." He explained with as much reassurance as he could muster.

" _Listen…I owe you, that's the only reason I haven't hung up on you._ " The voice grew firm and hard like brick and mortar. He found himself huddling and making himself smaller as he was chastised for expecting to be treated informally. "But that life is behind me now. I don't know where you've been or why you're here, but a lot has changed."

He sighed. "I need a place to stay, that's all I need from you." He pleaded quietly.

" _I…look, you can't stay with me!_ "

"I don't need anything special sir."

The voice scoffed, " _Don't think that you can try any tricks on me!_ "

"Never Monsieur!" Any plans he had of acting sweetly and groveling were immediately deleted from his mind.

" _…alright! You can stay in the attic of my café, but you can't come in until the store is closed_." The voice left no room for discussion.

"Yes sir, thank you sir." He bowed his head to the pay phone and then froze at his action. He needed a place to lie down badly.

He was about to hang up, but…there was something he needed to know, something very important that he wasn't sure he could ask upfront.

"Sir, I need to ask…" He mumbled in a hushed voice.

" _What?_ " The voice wanted this conversation over and it wanted it over now.

"How…how is…" He clenched his fist tightly. "How is…" He took a deep breath. "How's-"

" _…the place is in Yogen-Jaya tucked in an alley, look for a red awning. I'll leave the door unlocked. So help me, if anything is missing when I walk in tomorrow morning, I don't care what you've done or why you're here; I'll find a way to get you out and to keep you out._ " There was a click and computerized voice telling him to deposit another coin if he wanted to call again.

* * *

He stood against the wall of a skyscraper, watching person after person make their way across the plaza. Shoving, pushing, shouting when they felt their space had been invaded for the last time and then grumbling when they realized they either weren't sure who exactly shoved them or occasionally, when the person who had shoved them was either too big or didn't bother to respond.

The country hadn't been this noisy, hadn't been this grating on the ears or eyes either. He missed the countryside, it had been so easy there; bridle paths through quiet forests, empty streets with only light poles and power lines as company. Those ways had been mostly empty and the shadows felt just like home.

Wherever that happened to be.

He crossed his long arms and rested his chin against his chest.

Mssr. Sakura sounded so gruff and…older. He could tell that the world had had its way with Mssr. Sakura, just looking at these people who walked hunched over with their dead, baggy eyes on their little electronic trinkets was enough to tell him that these creatures led empty, meaningless lives. If this was all their existences amounted to, then it made sense that Mssr. Sakura would age considerably.

But there was still the matter of himself. Mssr. Sakura obviously did not want him there and he was not so pathetic and audacious to stay in a place where he was not wanted. That would only serve to shorten his leash and there was no telling what he was going to do even if he had a place that he was able to call home for however shot a period of time he would be there.

Stomp

He winced and found himself snatching his foot up sharply and leaning on against the skyscraper on one hand. He glared at the woman in disturbingly high heels who continued to walk away, unaware of what she had just done.

Indeed, the city life might not be for him.

But then…where would he go…

He had nothing, nowhere and nobody. He had busted into this world and now he was at its mercy. He didn't know how to get home if he still had one and it wasn't like he could get a job as it were now.

He imagined himself wearing an apron in a coffee shop and if it weren't such a blow to his dignity, he would have laughed.

As the sunlight began to fade and the buildings began to put on the glow of their neon lights, the ratio of the crowds changed from hordes of businessman and woman to youngsters in colorful clothes with dyed hair and men who crept into dark alleyways looking over the shoulders as they approached young woman (and occasionally men) with faces coated in lip gloss and eye shadow.

He straightened his body, winced at the ache in his legs and began wandering.

He followed the signs as best he could and when he stumbled into dead ends, he retraced and took different routes. The sky was black by the time he stumbled in between two buildings and past a series of shops that had closed for the night.

As he left the dull roar of the nightlife behind him, he saw a man in a pink shirt with a hat walk out from an alleyway that branched off from the one he was already taking.

The man wore glasses, a pink shirt and khakis and had dark slicked back hair and a beard. The man stopped underneath one of the streetlights, uncaring for the dark shadows around him; since it was getting quite late and nobody else would be down this path at this time of night, the man drew attention to himself.

A bold act to do at this late hour considering most other business had long since closed; the only reason any place of work would be closing this late, would be that the people on hand were reluctant to close in the first place.

He drew closer to the man, his long legs closing distance quickly despite his sedate pace. Soon, he was standing right next to him with no more than a couple of feet between them, possibly even less than that.

Suddenly, the man turned towards him and he found himself staring directly into his pale grey eyes. The man's breathing did not hitch, nor did the his pupils dilate or twitch in shock.

He simply exhaled and grumbled, "I must be out of my damn mind." Then he turned and walked away.

He watched him leave, saw him walk through shadows and reappear in pale yellow circles beneath buzzing lights until he turned down another street and disappeared.

With the figure gone from sight, he turned and walked down the street the man had come from and just as he had been told, there was a coffee shop with a red awning and a wooden door that was in fact unlocked.

He walked into the coffee shop and took in the booths and freshly cleaned countertop, leaving no shadow or silhouette in the light cast by the door. He crossed the shop to the stairs in the back and found himself in a dusty, cluttered space with a sheet-less bed and a table covered in old books.

There was a part of him that felt offended at the thought of sleeping in such a derelict space, but most of him was too fatigued to do anything to settle that part of him.

He walked lamely to the bed, fell onto it with an "oomph" and felt himself relax on the deepest level he had felt sense he started traveling. He felt his back melt into butter and heard the gentle rustle of something soft against the wooden floor and soon, he felt himself tipping off the edge of awareness and falling...

* * *

"Hmm" He hummed elegantly.

This was…odd.

He stood in tall prison cell, dank, wet dreary. Iron bars and walls or stone held him in a small cramped space. The steady sound of water dripping into a puddle in the back of his cell constant like clockwork, interrupted periodically by the sound of footsteps the grew steadily closer.

With a small chuckle, two young girls walked in front of his cell.

He looked down at them calmly, unconcerned by the eye patches they both wore, one over her left eye and the other over their right. He only vaguely felt any emotion towards the sound of a chain at his foot and the heavy weight attached to it.

The two young girls stepped closer to one another and behind them a spindly figure with a beak like nose sat at a desk in the round room outside of his cell.

A white, gloved hand was held out to him in greeting and bloodshot eyes took in his form.

" **Trickster, welcome to my Velvet Room.** "

* * *

So, around the time this story was posted, someone very close to me was diagnosed with cancer and passed away within the span two weeks.

Along with the fact that this is technically a filler chapter (which I suck at!), this part was doomed to to a slow development.

Anyways, for those of you that stuck around, you're awesome and I hope this chapter soothes everyone who waited.

Constructive Criticism welcome!


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